


Fireside

by Mayonayys



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Found Family, Self-Discovery, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:48:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27229114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayonayys/pseuds/Mayonayys
Summary: Pel doesn't always fit in easily, she doesn't always want to. Its been that way for a long time. Sometimes, though, you find someone who you just click with. Its just a little too easy to fall instep with those people, and that makes Pel uncomfortable.
Relationships: Cremisius "Krem" Aclassi/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	Fireside

**Author's Note:**

> This is largely unedited and will not be longer than one chapter.
> 
> Pelvera belongs to KertBert  
> Miralha belongs to myself

Pelvera’s eyes narrowed at the group before them, she wasn’t as keen on trusting them as Mir was. Then again, Pel always had more doubts about trusting others than Mir did. 

Miralha’s words echoed in her head:  _ “If they really wanted to kill us, they’d find a way no matter what.” _ Mir repeated this phrase more often than Pelvera liked, as if she didn’t always care to be alive. Pel didn’t blame her, but being reckless with her trust was not the way that she wanted to finally go.

A familiar laugh penetrated Pel’s ears, bringing her thoughts back to the moment. Miralha had homogeneoused herself with the Chargers already, enjoying a post battle pint around the fire with a few of the members. 

Pel on the other hand, felt like an outsider. It had been like this for most of her life. She was only at peace when surrounded by nature, or at Mir’s side. Those places were comfortable. They were familiar, even in their ever changing states. Predictable enough for her to move along with them. But the way those things differed was that Mir would not always be just Mir. She could be Mir, plus a group of strangers. Or Mir suddenly choosing to play with the other clan children instead of her… She pushed those aged thoughts aside. No use dwelling on their childhood now.

She stood firmly in her spot, not wanting to move closer to the bodies that surrounded the warm fire. Even if her toes were beginning to go a little numb from the cool ground. She scanned the group once more, her eyes moving further and further away from Miralha and the Chargers rambunctious leader, Iron Bull. She was almost startled when, at the edge of the group, a pair of soft hazel eyes were locked on her. 

Krem was his name, if she recalled correctly. His face was flushed, from the fire or from the pint of ale in his hand, probably both. A warm smile greeted her, practically beckoning her to join them by the fireside. She stayed rooted to her spot, becoming more and more uncomfortable as their eye contact was prolonged.

His smile only grew, his eyes crinkling so much they were practically closed. Pel’s anxiety grew as well. But his smile was disarming. It was pleasant and inviting. Genuine. Something Pel did not see often from strangers.

He patted the empty spot beside him and gave her a small beckon with his hand. Before she even realized, she was seating herself next to this stranger. The warmth of the fire, and his body next to hers, instantly engulfed her. The smell of flames, of earth and sweat, and of something unique and just a bit too pleasant, wrapped itself around her.

“Pelvera, right?” His voice was smooth and accented. Though the Tevinter accent would usually put her on edge, his only seemed to calm her anxieties.

“Yes.” Her voice came out quieter than she would have liked. She shifted, “If I recall correctly, you are Krem?” He answered her with a big nod and a big smile.

“Kinda hard to miss my name when the old man,” he jutted a thumb in Bull’s direction, “is always yelling at me about something during battle.” Pelvera allowed herself to give him a small smile.

“Miralha is much the same. Though hers is usually less due to battle strategy and more due to emotional outbursts.” Her eyes went back to Mir, who was still laughing and submerging herself more and more into the Cargers company.

“Not always a bad thing.” Krem shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind someone calling out for me in the midst of battle, just because they cared for me.” His gaze finally fell from her, she noticed he began to awkwardly fidget with the cup in his hand.

She took a second to evaluate his sudden change of mood. Letting out a small hum, she spoke. “You’re right. I’m lucky to have her. It's not as if she does it to be reckless or needlessly loud.” She intertwined her own fingers together. “We care for one another deeply.”

He looked back up at her, a small smile returning. It felt sad.

“Perhaps...” Pel continued on, “Perhaps you just don’t notice when one of the Chargers calls out in concern, because they care for you.”

His smile was less sad now, but only a little.

“Oh I know they care,” he shook his head, took a swig of his drink, and his sad smile turned to a whimsical smirk. “But to have someone who would just be utterly and deeply  _ destroyed _ if something were to ever happen to you…” His eyes were cast to the dark night sky as he spoke. 

Pel’s gaze on him softened. He looked so very vulnerable in this moment. Her chest tightened. Seeing such a display made Pel want to be vulnerable too, but not here. Not out in the open, unguarded from curious eyes and ears.

He cleared his throat and stood, “I need more to drink, want anything?” His disarming, genuine smile was back, looking down at her softly as he waited for an answer. She nodded.

With his warmth gone from her side, Pel felt the cool air claim her once more. She let her expression fall, her face morphing back into its usual expressionless slate. Her eyes went to Mir, she fit right in. Pel sometimes longed to fit in as well, but not so much so that she worked towards it.

She noticed Krem making his way back to the fireside, with a bright smile and two cups of ale in his grasp. 

A soft smile graced her features. Perhaps... She has finally found the perfect chance to fit in.


End file.
